


Race you

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Car Sex, Cas smokes, Dean has tattoos, Humor, M/M, Smoking, and it's great, they're both kind of assholes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 13:39:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3383627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was another car sitting under the red light. Dean had seen probably less than ten other cars on the road since leaving the city limits behind. It was a wide blocky gold car, a Lincoln Continental, and as Dean pulled up next to it he could feel his teeth rattle from the way too loud rap music blaring out of the open windows. Glancing over, there was a guy with messy dark hair in a white button down shirt sitting in the car looking forward. He had on a tie, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, one tan forearm hanging out the window.The music changed to a new song, someone screaming "Turn down for what". The hell was that phrase even supposed to mean. It made literally no sense. Dean scowled and cranked up his own music, Metallica's "King Nothing" screeching out into the night to clash with this dude's rap music.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Race you

Dean breathed out a heavy sigh as the last of the yellow street lights fluttered over the Impala. It wasn't like he lived in a very big city - Atwater population almost seventy two thousand- but he still liked taking his baby out to stretch her legs on the winding back country highways that spread out for miles into the great big nothing that surrounded the city. He was struggling to fight against the pressure that wrapped around him from all sides, like being crammed in a too small box. Settling down was hard.

Don't get him wrong. Dean had made the choice - without being asked - to find himself a full time job above the table and lease an apartment. His baby brother was getting married and having his own babies, and Dean wanted to be there for him. There was nothing more important than family. But he'd always been a bit of a vagrant and seeing the same streets and the same faces month after month started to feel suffocating.

It didn't help that he literally felt like he would suffocate in the oppressive late summer heat with the broken window ac unit in his tiny attic apartment. It was almost midnight by the time he peeled himself off his mattress - feeling like he'd melted and become one with the sheets - pulling on a white tank top and a ratty pair of jeans before heading out.

The night air rushing through the Impala's windows would help cool his head off. He didn't have anywhere to go, anything to do, he just needed to move. So he took off for the endless stretch of dark country roads that went nowhere in particular. There were a few small towns, or just intersections, where the road would widen to four lanes at a light - gas stations, bars, hunting shops on the side. Little blips on the map and the road would narrow again passing through forests and fields afterward.

It was a good night out for a drive. Brightly tattooed arms bared to the night air hung comfortably on to the wide wheel as he eased around a bend in the road. Lights ahead marked another stop, a gas station to one side, a strip club to the other, and the road flared to four lanes where the stop light hung.

There was another car sitting under the red light. Dean had seen probably less than ten other cars on the road since leaving the city limits behind. It was a wide blocky gold car, a Lincoln Continental, and as Dean pulled up next to it he could feel his teeth rattle from the way too loud rap music blaring out of the open windows. Glancing over, there was a guy with messy dark hair in a white button down shirt sitting in the car looking forward. He had on a tie, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, one tan forearm hanging out the window.

The music changed to a new song, someone screaming "Turn down for what". The hell was that phrase even supposed to mean. It made literally no sense. Dean scowled and cranked up his own music, Metallica's "King Nothing" screeching out into the night to clash with this dude's rap music.

The guy turned to look at him. His face was half covered in shadow from the slant of the street light, a cigarette Dean hadn't seen hanging out the corner of his mouth with the smoke curling up around his face. Goddam he had one hell of a jaw line, dark with stubble, bright blue eyes squinting at Dean. If he didn't have such shitty taste in cars and music, he might be the kind of guy Dean was in to.

Dean made a lewd gesture at him.

The light turned green.

Dean floored the gas, not wanting to get stuck behind a slow driver or an asshole. He fully intended to speed past the guy till the lanes narrowed down to a two lane highway again and leave him behind. The only problem was that the Continental raced up to neck and neck with him, then started to pull ahead.

Dean swore and swerved out past the double yellow lines when the lanes shrank back down to two, revving up his baby and shooting up past 20 mph over the speed limit for the area, pulling ahead of the Continental and snapping back in to the correct lane. He kept his foot on the gas, 25 mph over, scooting up to 90 mph, but the lights in his rear view mirror were still close enough to be annoying.

Seriously?

As soon as he eased off the gas a little, the lights moved over and the Continental was coming up on his side. No passing zone buddy, double yellow, but the roads were deserted and the Continental seemed determined to pass him. Dean pushed the Impala almost over 100 but the fugly ass gold car still managed to speed up enough to swerve in front of him.

Oh it was fucking on.

Dean gripped the steering wheel tight, Metallica still raging loud in his ear, fingers sliding along her curves that he knew so well as the roar of the engine made it's purr known over the music. Past 100 mph and if there were any speed traps around here they'd get taken in for reckless endangerment, but Dean needed to pull ahead of this asshole.

It was a matter of fucking pride.

He swerved over to the other lane, getting halfway up the length of the Continental when he saw on coming head lights and had to slow down to get behind. Gritting his teeth, shoulders tensed, Dean waited until the on coming traffic had passed then swerved back out and gunned it, coming up ahead of the Continental and cutting it off again.

A smirk was still plastered on his face from the stupid games of racing with a stranger when the lanes spread out to four again and the lights of the on coming intersection brightened up the road. It was a red light again.

The Continental pulled up next to him. Dean couldn't feel the vibrations of the rap music. When he turned his own music down, it was dead silent. The other guy was turned in his seat staring at Dean. He felt a laugh bubble up, hadn't had this much reckless fun in a while.

Giving a short wave, he introduced himself. "I'm Dean."

The other guy tilted his head to the side. "Hello Dean."

The light turned green but he waited, hanging on.

"My name is Castiel."

Dean smiled wide, ready to say something else but the Continental was off, shooting forward and Dean slammed a hand on the wheel cursing 'son of a bitch' as he floored it and raced to catch up.

They raced for a while through the up and down bumps of rolling farmland hills, pulling ahead of one another, driving side to side until an oncoming car forced one back, weaving around each other. Dean was already thinking about what he wanted to say to this Cas guy when they had to stop at the next intersection, but when it came up the light was green and they breezed through.

Dean loved the feel of the road through his car, turning with his body around curves, stomach lurching at the crest of hills, the judder of rough patches under the tires. The night air was cool on the back of his neck, through his thin tank top. This was what he needed, his baby on the road. He thought he wanted to be alone, but actually, it was kind of fun racing with this guy and making up all sorts of stories about who he was. Some kind of strange little dude, in a button down shirt despite the heat, riding in the dead of night listening to rap, challenging a beast like the Impala to speeding down the back roads.

Dean wanted to talk to him.

He also wanted to pluck the cigarette out of his mouth and lick past those plush lips.

He had pulled ahead of Cas - for now - when the road flattened out and he saw a gravel pull over. Signaling to let Cas know, he slowed and slid over the shoulder onto the gravel patch, stopping his car and turning her off. He patted baby's wheel, telling her what a sweetheart she was and how well she did. Dean waited with a sour twist in his stomach to see if Cas would pull on after him or keep going.

He shouldn't be so disappointed to see the Continental tear past him, but he was. Oh well. Racing with a stranger was one thing, pulling off for - well he wasn't sure what for - that was something else.

Then he heard the tires screeching and the Continental was backing up, stopping side by side to Dean. He waved out the open window, smiling at Cas. Cas squinted at him again, blowing a stream of smoke out of his nostrils. Dean reflexively reached down to palm himself through his jeans. He caught Cas catching the movement of his hand.

The Continental backed up more, crunching on the gravel as it swerved in behind Dean. Getting out of his car, he sauntered on back and leaned against the trunk of the Impala, feet crossed at the ankles, hands resting on the trunk as his body curved in a slouch.

The now tolerable volume of the rap music cut off and Cas got out of his car. There weren't any street lights out this way, but the moon was bright in the clear sky so he could see pretty well. The red glow of the cigarette cherry dropped down and Cas stubbed the cigarette out before walking up and standing in front of his car.

The blue tie around his neck was on backwards, pulled a little loose with the collar button popped open. Dean stared at the curve of his neck, the contours of his forearms coming up to cross over his chest, the dark shine of his eyes.

"I didn't think a Continental would even be a challenge for my baby."

Dean was being an asshole, but his voice was friendly. Least, he intended it that way.

Cas' tongue darted out to lick his lower lip and Dean found himself mirroring it. "Well, I'd have to say a lot of it is up to how the driver can handle his ride."

"That so?"

God, his voice was rough and deep, raspy from smoking and it made it a little heat shiver down Dean's spine. There was an undercurrent to Cas' words, a challenge and a general air of cocky authority. It just made Dean want to do things. Well hell, if tonight was going to be one of reckless spontaneity, he figured he might as well go for the gold.

"You know, I kind of want to suck your dick right now."

Dean figured a few things might happen. He might if he was lucky get to press Cas back against the warm hood of his car and suck him off. Cas might turn around, get back in it and drive off. Or, there might be a road side brawl, and that was always fun too.

What he got instead was a shorter man who must be hiding some muscle under his stuffy clothes, charging in to Dean's space and pinning him back against the trunk of his car. Fuck yeah, he'll take what's behind door number four. Cas' nimble hands were pulling at his belt buckle, one foot pushing between Dean's ankles to unlock them, a thigh slotting up between his. Wait, wasn't he the one that was gonna suck Cas off.

"If this is a race to see who can get who's dick out faster, I will totally let you win."

The words came out jumbled as Cas pressed their lips together, biting at him, nudging against his jaw, breathing hot against his neck. Cas huffed and yanked his jeans down.

"I can only hope your cock is as big as your attitude."

Oh, it was getting there. Dean was mostly hard already by the time Cas dropped to his knees on the gravel, hands fitting to Dean's hips and lips trailing down below his navel.

Jesus Christ superstar, but Dean did not expect a midnight ride to turn in to sinful fucking lips wrapping around his cock while wide blue eyes looked up at him like they could offer him heaven on earth.

Cas sucked down two thirds of his cock, a fist curling around the base while his tongue worked at it. Dean gasped and rocked his hips just a little to test it, and Cas worked with the motion. There were on coming headlights but Dean didn't give a shit, tangling his fingers up in Cas' messy - so fucking soft - hair and thrusting in to his mouth. Dean snickered when the car swerved as it came up to pass them.

Just when he thought they were working up a good rhythm together, Cas wrenched out of his hold. Rising fluidly on his feet, hands planted beside Dean's hips on the trunk, Cas pressed their bodies together and kissed him with open mouthed eagerness. Cas grunted against his mouth, pulling back a little, and his voice was wrecked when he said, "I'm going to fuck you in my car."

Dean licked his lips, hips pushing forward against the smooth fabric of Cas' fancy slacks.

"Who says you're going to be doing the fucking?"

Cas stepped back from him, that hard line of heat gone and Dean swayed forward without meaning to. Cas glared at him, still fucking dressed and Dean's pants were around his ankles but dammit he wasn't just going to give it up. Then Cas barked out a clear order. "Take your shirt off Dean."

Dean's body instinctively reacted, ripping his tank up and dropping it on the ground. Son of a bitch knew how to work his fucking buttons.

"That's a good boy."

Fuck. Dean tried to scowl, and hoped it didn't come out as a pout. "Hey fuck you assho- oh -"

Cas was back to being plastered against him, head bent down and teeth worrying at one of Dean's nipples. His hands were curving around Dean's waist, fingers tracing up his spine, fitting against his shoulder blades. Cas licked at both his nipples, kissing the skin in between, rolling one nub between his teeth and pulling. Dean felt his knees go weak, fingers tugging at Cas' hair as he moaned.

Dean leaned against Cas when he pulled back this time, hands groping all over each other as they turned, stumbled, and turned in some sort of weird dance back to Cas' Continental. Dean's pants were around his ankles, so yeah, who needed dignity.

Cas fumbled the passenger side front door open and pushed Dean inside. He sank down onto his back, legs dangling out the door as Cas leaned in and opened the glove box. Dean propped himself up on an elbow, watching.

Holy shit what was he getting himself in to. Cas was digging out a small bottle of lube and a condom from the glove box. He had to root around past a pair of handcuffs, cat ears, a collar, a bottle of purell, and a string of anal beads to get to the condom and lube.

Who the fuck keeps anal beads in their car. That's gotta be unsanitary.

Once Cas found what he wanted and started to pull back, Dean curved up and snagged his tie to draw him back down. Dude was still fully dressed. Fingers pulling at the buttons of his shirt and the knot of his tie, Dean kissed him sloppily while Cas braced a hand on the back of the bench seat and let himself get mauled.

Eventually, he bit down hard on Dean's lip and pulled back. Well, the tie was in the footwell now and his shirt was mostly open to reveal a toned fucking chest, hell yeah, and Dean even caught a glimpse of some black tattoo work down his ribs. Nice.

Then Cas was crouching in between his spread thighs, tugging a boot off and pulling Dean's jeans the rest of the way down one leg. He didn't bother with the other leg. Cas was slicking up his fingers and trying to get Dean's cock back in his mouth but it kept twitching all over the place until Dean held it steady for the guy. Cas sucked at the head and nudged a hand down lower between his legs. Stubble scraped against his thighs and Dean tried to spread them wider, knee bumping against the door, his hips tilted too downward. Lifting his free un-booted foot up and bending his knee to get it inside the car, he propped his foot up against the ceiling where it turned in to the door frame, using it for leverage to pop his hips up and spread himself wider.

Cas hummed his approval, hot mouth sucking Dean in, two fingers easily finding their way inside him now. Dean could see Cas a lot better, the little console light in the middle of his car on with the door open, a pool of soft yellow in the dark night that lit up the angles of his face, made his eyes a little lighter and a little gentler even though the black of his pupil was spread out so wide. There was a flush on Cas' cheeks, his lips shining with the spit trickling out of his mouth and down Dean's cock. He was fucking gorgeous.

Dean was still keyed up on adrenaline from their impromptu racing, blood pumping fast and breath shallow. He was getting to be the sticky kind of sweaty, the air in Cas' car lingering with the smell of smoke, sitting thick and still now that they weren't moving down the highway. Dean couldn't bring himself to care though, one arm smashed between him and the seat back, the other reaching down to push through Cas' hair again.

Dean was ready, oh he was so far beyond ready to get fucked ten ways to Sunday, but he didn't want to tell Cas to pull back. Cause the things he could do with his tongue ought to be illegal, and how his fingers curled and twisted inside Dean had his vision going fuzzy around the edges and his toes curling. Dean was rolling his hips furtively and pulling at Cas' messy hair when he pulled off. Cas smiled at him, fingers still working inside him.

"Should I get you off, Dean? Fuck you when you're nice and relaxed?"

"No, no, don't."

"What do you want?"

"Come on."

"Tell me what you want Dean."

Cas curled his fingers, Dean's whole body tingling, a tight heat throbbing in the base of his spine.

"Fuck, ohgodshitCas, I wanna come on your cock, please, come on, fuck me."

"You're very eloquent, aren't you Dean?"

"Fuck you."

Cas pulled his fingers out, slapped the inside of Dean's thigh sharply and he yelped, his foot dropping from the ceiling of the car so his leg dangled out of it again.

"Flip over."

Dean heaved himself up and rolled over, Cas behind him tearing open the condom and rolling it down his cock. Dean hadn't even noticed when he'd gotten his dick out. Pushing himself up on his elbows, Cas was pulling him back with firm hands on his hips. Both feet on the gravel outside, bent forward along the seat, Dean arched his back and spread his legs. Cas' rubbed his hands down Dean's sides, pulled his ass cheeks apart and murmured something incoherent. Feeling the blunt head of a cock at his hole, Dean braced himself and pushed back.

Cas slid forward with it, pushing in to him until Dean felt the jut of his hip bones. He heard a loud smack against the top of the car above him. The gravel was rough on his one bare foot, so Dean brought it up to dig into the footwell, giving him a wider stance, leaning forward to brace his other knee on the seat. Cas ground into him, Dean panting and clawing at the seat. Then Cas pulled back, hands holding Dean's hips, and started to fuck him like a machine.

Dean fell forward with how fucking hard Cas was pushing in to him. One arm folded across the seat and his forehead pressed to it, he reached the other down his body to grasp his cock slapping up against his belly every time Cas jostled him. Dean woulda been slid all the way across the seat if Cas didn't have a grip like a vice on his hips, pulling him back, bodies colliding and he knew he'd have fucking bruises on his ass from the man's sharp hip bones.

Cursing a constant stream breathlessly in between the grunts forced out of him every time Cas thrust in, Dean heard himself begging for it as he jacked his cock furiously. His pride could go fuck itself.

"C'mon Cas, fuck me like you mean it...holyshitfuckthereyesyesfuck."

Cas was quiet, Dean could hear his heavy breathing but he didn't talk, just fucked in to Dean faster than he thought possible, angling down and hitting his prostate, cock dragging and rubbing against his insides stretched so nice. Dean went rigid as he pumped his hand and came screaming himself hoarse against the seat of Cas' car. Cas sank into him, hips stuttering, losing the perfect rhythm as he groaned and dug his fingers into the meat of Dean's waist, grinding their bodies together.

Barely holding himself up on a trembling arm when Cas pulled out and let go of his hips, Dean just wanted to collapse but he didn't really want to roll around in the wet spot. There was a trench coat slung over the seat, so he pulled it down under him, flopping over and stretching out on his back. His leg muscles were starting to cramp and his stomach was burning, but Dean felt like he could sleep soundly for a year.

"Holy shit."

Jesus, now he sounded like he was smoking a pack a day.

Cas was hunched over, his hands braced on top of the car, his pants around his ankles but his boxers digging in to hid mid thigh, shirt completely open hanging off his lithe frame, stomach muscles contracting and expanding with his heaving breath. He looked at Dean, and grunted. Then he ducked in to the car partway, dug a pack of cigarettes out of the porn store in his glove box, and lit one up.

"Hey, can I have one?"

Cas handed him the one already lit, them got another for himself. The guy stooped down to pull his pants back up, fastening them and leaving the belt hanging open. Dean scratched lazily at his stomach, sucking down the burn of smoke into his lungs and groaning as he stretched out a little more.

When Cas turned around to lean back against the side of the car facing out, Dean sat up and scooted down to sit halfway out the door and smoke with him.

"You live round here?"

Cas pushed a hand through Dean's sweaty hair and he leaned in to the contact humming.

"Yes, about ten more minutes down the road - at a reasonable speed at least. The Sleepy Pines trailer park."

"I'm about forty minutes back that way, from Atwater ."

Cas nodded, sucked on his cigarette and blew smoke out into the fresh night air. Dean started putting his pants back on, pushing his bare ankle through the jeans and shoving it back in to his boot, without the sock, who gives a fuck where that sock got off to. Still bare assed, he got distracted turning to rummage through Cas' glove box.

"What are you looking for?"

Cigarette dangling from his lips, Dean mumbled around it, "You got a pen?"

Cas dug into his slack pockets, pulling out a ball point pen and offering it to Dean.

Grabbing his bare wrist, Dean took the pen and scrawled his name and number onto Cas' palm.

Chuckling to himself, he fit a few lines in above his number 'For a good time call'.

Cas grabbed the pen from him, looking at his palm. "Are you comparing me to a bathroom stall?"

Dean barked out a genuine laugh, something brusque and short and loud. Cas was a weird little dude. He really kind of liked him. Ok, he definitely liked him. Then Cas was pulling him up, handling Dean like he wasn't several inches taller and wider, turning him around. Dean was fucked loose and sated, he couldn't give a shit. He jumped when he felt the pen digging in to his ass, twisting around to look but Cas slapped him on his rear.

"Stay still."

Oh great, so he was probably scrawling 'property of' or something like that on Dean's ass. Well, as long as it came with a number. When Cas stood back, Dean tried to crane himself around to look at it, but he couldn't read it or even see all of it. He was turning himself in circles, jeans still around his ankles, trying to see.

"Man, I'm gonna have to decipher that backwards in a mirror."

Cas laughed, a full bodied giddy sort of laugh, and Dean stopped to look at him. He had straight white teeth, little wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, and his cheeks were still ruddy.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Fucking asshole.


End file.
